


'cause i need your sway

by sleepingalone



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, and a cat with an identity crisis, freckled louis, like literally just fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-25
Updated: 2014-12-25
Packaged: 2018-03-03 10:16:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2847419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleepingalone/pseuds/sleepingalone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>coffee shops, cats, and cute boys with freckles</p>
            </blockquote>





	'cause i need your sway

**Author's Note:**

> This is literally just a random little thing about a world where Louis has freckles. Which would be cute as fuck. 
> 
> Inspired by and for [Gabby](http://snapcchat.tumblr.com/), who also happens to be cute as fuck. Hope you enjoy this unorganized rambling! Merry Christmas!!! xx
> 
> And I didn't really go through and edit this...I was too lazy...sorry if you find anything aha.

"I asked for TWO pumps of vanilla, not one!" a yoga-pant clad woman was nearly screeching at the counter, baby on her hip and two little boys crowded behind her looking quite embarrassed. Zayn felt a wry twist of satisfaction at their obvious discomfort from their mother’s obnoxious attitude. Or at least he thought she was their mother. Maybe she was a kidnapper. Maybe he should call the police. 

“Ma’am, I put two - okay, yeah, I’ll add another pump,” Zayn sighed, trying to keep some semblance of a polite smile on his face as he took the offending cup back. The customer was always right, after all. 

He really didn’t understand the hype for quaint little coffee shops. All he ever witnessed was middle-aged adults with a passion for making life as difficult as possible for service employees. Not to mention the endless stream of beanie-clad, flannel clothed college students coming in, but they were sweet and typically more mature than their elders. Usually.

He handed the coffee back, with three pumps of vanilla now, and he watched on anxiously as she took a sip. He’d once been yelled at for the coffee being too hot, blamed for the burn the man had gotten for taking a too large sip too soon. He didn’t understand the rationale behind the existence of some people, honestly. But this lady smiled instead, thank God, tight and fake as it was.

“Now _that’s_ two pumps.” She nodded with an air of haughtiness that made Zayn want to snap her neck. But before he could do anything he’d regret, she was making her way out the door, her little boys trailing behind, the little toddler fumbling in his steps in an endearing way. Hopefully he would grow to be less discourteous than his mother. Kidnapper. Whatever.

Zayn let out an exasperated sigh, looking around the now empty shop, being the middle of the day and all. It’d undoubtedly be filled with bustling teenagers by the time school was out, everyone desperate for the entire “hipster” appeal. They were polite and all of course, much better than the older crowd, and Zayn didn’t want to seem like he thought he was better or anything, but. They all pretended to love reading old poetry, gushing about Whitman when they only read his things to appear cool and not trendy. They didn’t truly understand Dickinson’s views on isolationism and society’s follies. 

Of course Zayn wasn’t into literature either, he had tattoos littering his body, an enviable bit of facial hair, he rode a motorbike around, and...he was majoring in English. Okay, maybe he was kinda into literature. 

He was torn from his thoughts when he felt the presence of someone standing right in front of him, pressed up against the counter eagerly, and he instinctively took a step back from where he’d been resting his elbow. 

“Hi!” a musical voice lilted, and Zayn finally looked up and felt himself take another step back as he did. 

Standing before him was some excitable seeming boy, all bright eyes and toothy smile, a splattering of freckles raining down from obnoxiously high and prominent cheekbones, fluffy hair looking endearingly windswept. He looked quite young, but as delicate as his voice was, there was an odd sort of sagacity behind it. The distinct freckles painting his cheeks and dancing across the bridge of his nose only seemed to add to the childish appeal to him, and Zayn felt a bit overwhelmed by the all-consuming aura he seemed to hold, without even saying much more than a simple greeting. 

When the boy (man?) seemed the realize that Zayn wasn’t going to return a salutation, his smile dropped by the tiniest fraction at the corners. “Sorry, is this place open right now?” Zayn probably looked like a deer caught in the headlights. That saying was much too overused, but he didn’t have time to be creative. There was a pretty boy man standing in front of him, still leaning up against the counter as if he wanted to get as close to Zayn as possible. The thought made something twist in Zayn’s chest.

“Y-yeah, we’re open, you can get coffee, or whatever,” Zayn mumbled eloquently. The boy’s smile returned full force, practically beaming over something as simple as the concept of an open coffee shop. Zayn wanted to be annoyed by his obnoxiously optimistic persona, but there was just something so likeable hidden in those uneven teeth and button nose. 

“Lovely! I just wanted a cuppa, actually. I despise coffee, so fucking bitter,” he said amiably, and Zayn felt his own eyes widen at the word coming from such an innocent seeming mouth. He really wondered how old the boy was. 

“Um, yea, how would you like it?” Zayn asked automatically, thankful for the quiet in the shop at the moment so that he could be heard. It was always so awkward when he had to repeat himself multiple times in the bustle of the afternoon, his habit of trailing off at the end of his sentences certainly not helping. 

“No milk or sugar,” the boy instructed, eyes still crinkled up in an eternal grin. Zayn felt himself nod and move off to start to boil the water for the tea, trying not to trip over his own feet or mumble anything he’d regret. He felt the presence of the boy waiting on him like a shadow looming over him, and he tried to look as studious as possible as he fussed around with things that didn’t need fussing with, but he was broken from his quiet concentration with a squeal. 

He quickly turned in alarm, worried that someone had come in with a gun or the boy was having a heart attack, but it turned out to be a squeal of delight. 

“Aren’t you the most gorgeous thing?” the boy was kneeling to say, and Zayn heard a low purr in return from the stray cat that always found it’s way into the shop. He couldn’t help the smile that slipped onto his own face as he peered over the counter to see the black cat easily falling for the boy’s charm as well, preening under his touch and licking over his hand. 

“I’d be careful, she’s clawed at a few children,” Zayn warned, “She’s quite difficult to get on with.” To be honest, it had taken an entire month to get on with the cat himself, but now it constantly came in to rub against his legs until he gave it a bowl of milk or cream or something of the sort, or else it’d start chasing off customers. Manipulative little thing, she was. 

But it seemed to not hold a thing against the boy, now spreading itself out on the floor so he could continue running his hands through it’s coal fur. 

“I think she’d have clawed at me by now, then,” the boy chuckled, glancing up at Zayn with bright eyes. “Does she live here?” 

“Not really, she’s a stray, pops in from time to time to guilt trip me into giving her milk,” Zayn said with a shrug, going back to finish off the tea and trying to bite back his grin at his musical laughter. 

When he got back a minute later the boy was at the counter again, the cat still rubbing up against him and purring with a sincerity Zayn had never heard in his life. “She really likes you,” he commented, and the boy gave a nonchalant shrug.

“I’ve been told I’m quite likeable,” he said with an exaggerated wink, and Zayn let out a snort while his heart stuttered in his chest. He wasn’t possibly flirting with him, he was just joking around, of course. 

“That you are,” Zayn mumbled. No. Shit. Maybe he it was too quiet, hopefully. But when he risked a glance at the boy’s eyes as he placed the cup on the table he seemed to be full of surprise. Surprised glee, of course. Of course he wouldn’t be able to portray some negative emotion, or be weirded out, he was just sent straight from God, wasn’t he. 

“It’s Louis, by the way,” the boy said, making no move the reach for the cup. “And this place is lovely, I adore the sign up there, ‘Family and friends are the best ingredients’. Bit cannibalistic though, don’t you think?” 

Zayn let out a surprised burst of laughter, holding his tongue between his teeth to keep from getting too embarrassingly giggly. He loathed his laugh, but Louis seemed pleased enough, eyes crinkling up again. 

“I’m Zayn, by the way,” Zayn quickly said before he forgot. He thought it only polite since the boy - Louis - had given his name. 

“That’s a beautiful name,” Louis complimented, but it didn’t feel a tad bit patronizing. “You must love working here, between this gorgeous stray and the uplifting signs. It’s quite a decent job, isn’t it?”

Zayn thought back to despicable customers and whining children and distasteful hipsters and cleaning up spilled coffees and - “Yea, it’s ace.” 

Louis positively beamed between him and the cat, but then suddenly his eyebrows furrowed together. 

“What’s her name?”

“Pardon?”

“The cat,” Louis stressed, eyes widening as if this was essential. “Has she got a name?” 

“Um.” She didn’t really have a home, or owner, as far as Zayn knew, so she probably didn’t, and he explained just that. 

“We should name her,” Louis said authoritatively, expression the most serious Zayn had seen yet on him. “Something really cute and creative, yeah?” Zayn was still hung up on the “we”, as if they were already companions of some sort, as if Louis hadn’t just walked in as a customer at this quaint little coffee shop. 

“Yeah, yeah, totally,” Zayn nodded back. “How about, like, -”

“Spiderman!”

“Batman!”

Louis’ mouth twisted to the side, teeth peeking out in an adorable sort of snarl as if he was a frustrated little kitten himself, all fluffy hair and bouncing with energy nonetheless. “Batman is predictable.”

“Is not!” Zayn argued, and honestly, he didn’t know why he was so desperate to keep talking to this boy. His tea was probably going cold, but he didn’t quite want to point that out, because then he’d be on his way, leaving Zayn here to stew in his own thoughts and without a lively charismatic freckled boy. “And Spiderman doesn’t work, the cat is black.”

“Spiderman is sick, she’s sick, so she’s automatically Spiderman,” Louis said with an air of finality. Zayn grumbled playfully in reply, putting on an exaggerated pout, and suddenly Louis was giggling again, little hand coming up to cover his mouth. God. He wasn’t much shorter than Zayn, probably around the same height, but the way he constantly curled in on himself and the naive sort of halo around him made him seem so much smaller and all the more adorable. 

“I’m still calling her Batman,” Zayn quipped, letting himself fall into an easy grin himself, and Louis seemed so giddy with the fact that he’d managed to pull Zayn out of his shell. It _was_ quite a feat, especially after knowing Zayn for only five minutes. 

The two smiled at eachother for a moment, a point where it reached awkward never seeming to occur. Zayn kinda wanted to stare at the splashes of color across his cheeks for ages. 

“Should probably grab my cuppa before it gets cold,” Louis finally sighed, reaching out at the same time as Zayn to grab the caramel tinted cup. Their fingers brushed together in a movie-like moment, and Zayn felt all of his breath leave him in a great big whoosh at the warmth emanating from those golden fingers. 

He wasn’t sure if Louis had the same ethereal experience or if he just charmed everyone he met as he grabbed his cup, smiling warmly at Zayn all the while. His eyes fell to the tattoos seared into Zayn’s arm and travelled up, following the trail of ink, lingering on the more colorful “ZAP!”

“Those tattoos are just _wicked_ ,” Louis breathed out, mouth hanging open in awed reverence, as if he was just noticing them. Then he was pulling down on the burgundy collar of his own shirt, revealing a delicate looking “It Is What It Is” in beautiful calligraphy, framed below even more beautifully prominent collarbones. “This is all I’ve got. For now.” He grinned excitedly at Zayn at his last words as if it was some big secret, like they were planning a surprise party for a friend or something. Zayn had never been greeted with so much optimism in his entire life.

“You’re- that’s gorgeous,” Zayn quickly corrected himself. Was the word gorgeous even passable as a lad thing? 

But Louis didn’t acknowledge his cringeworthy slip-up, instead giving him the most genuine smile, again, and giving a nod of appreciation as he took a sip from the steaming disposable cup. There was a slight mewl, and Zayn peered down to see the cat still dancing at Louis’ feet. He was probably a cat whisperer, or something. 

“Spidey really doesn’t have a home, does she,” Louis commented, or questioned, Zayn wasn’t quite sure. His voice really was lovely, with a slight scratch to it as if he’d just woken up.

“Yea, _Batman_ doesn’t,” Zayn playfully corrected, and Louis gave an obnoxious eye roll. 

“Could I, maybe, take her home with me?” Louis asked, and for the first time Zayn saw a nervous edge in Louis’ expression, as if Zayn would possibly have the strength to deny him anything he wanted. Hell, he could reveal he was robber at this point and Zayn would simply hand him everything he had. 

“I mean, just take care of her well,” Zayn shrugged, certain that the adorable boy would do his best. He didn’t seem like the psychotic type to murder animals and bury them in his yard. And even if he was, the cat wasn’t even his to allow the boy to take home, but. 

But then Louis was suddenly up close to him, only the counter between them, giddy smile on his face as he pulled Zayn into an awkward embrace, their shoulders barely touching. His hands felt so delicate and warm on his own petite back, unexpected muscle on his golden arms. And he just smelled so...comfortable. Homely. Something akin to tea, but not quite. Before he could get too caught up in it all, Louis was pulling away but still pressed up excitedly against the counter, nearly bouncing with energy. 

“Thank you! Yes, yes, I will!” Louis enthused, moving to pick Batman up but seeming to realize he was still holding his tea. “Oh, bother,” he grumbled dramatically, before finishing his tea in a few huge gulps. Zayn couldn’t help but wince, it must have been searing hot, but Louis didn’t seem bothered in the least, quickly chucking his empty cup in the trash. 

Then he was scooping the cat up into his arms, who surprisingly went without a fight, and petted over it gently, making little cooing noises that made Zayn scary jealous of a stray cat. Or, Louis’ cat now, he supposed. 

“I’ll see you around, then?” Zayn meant it to come off as nonchalant, a sort of “I wouldn’t care if I never saw you again”, but he was quite certain that it came off more hopeful and desperate, like he couldn’t bear to see Louis walk out the coffee mug decaled door. 

Louis grinned at him warmly as if he was a little stray cat himself, freckled cheeks riding over his cheekbones, and he gave a swift nod before leaving so quickly Zayn couldn’t be sure the whole situation wasn’t just dredged up out of boredom. 

\-----

“My memory didn’t do your eyelashes justice,” Louis was chuckling, up against the counter again. Zayn nearly dropped his phone from where he’d been playing some stupid addicting game, jumping back at the familiar delicate voice. 

He stared at Louis for another moment, eyeing the drooping collar on his black and white patterned sweater, certain that his hands were buried in endearing sweater paws. Then he startled when Louis’ words hit him. 

“I, um, thanks,” Zayn mumbled, smiling nervously. It had been nearly a week since he’d first been visited by the fluffy-haired boy, and he was still just as vibrant as last time. He wasn’t sure he’d ever see him again, London being so huge and all, but here he was staring into cerulean eyes all over again. They contrasted so beautifully against his dark bronze hair and smattering of freckles. He totally didn’t go home and write a few poems about said freckles, of course not.

“They cast these fucking shadows across your cheeks, it’s really not fair,” Louis continued, apparently oblivious to Zayn’s reverent stare. Then he was giving that familiar grin, making Zayn feel comfortable and warm and slightly excited himself. “I actually didn’t come here to buy something, before you ask, just had tea, and I figured you wouldn’t mind with how busy the store is.” Louis gestured at the completely vacant shop, usually quiet at this time of day. 

“Oh...well, why are you here, then?” Zayn asked, feeling his heart speed up a bit. Had he come just to talk to Zayn? He hadn’t found him too quiet and awkward? Did he actually find Zayn’s eyelashes attractive? Well, everyone did, but. 

“Spiderman missed you!” Louis nearly squealed, and then he lifted the cat up out of nowhere and set it on the counter. Zayn nearly had a second heart attack at the sudden appearance of the black cat. 

“Batman,” he automatically corrected, and felt a thrill at Louis’ displeased grumble. He tentatively reached a hand out to pet her, letting himself relax when she didn’t move to rip his hand off, leaning towards his touch instead and settling onto the countertop. He was sure he was breaking at least ten sanitation hazards. 

The two of them fell into a comfortable silence, Zayn feeling his heart swell when Batman nuzzled her face into his palm, and when he glanced up, Louis was smiling at him with an almost fond expression, as if Zayn was the adorable one. He opened his mouth to say something, but wasn’t quite sure what, and ended up awkwardly fishmouthing before Louis took pity on him.

“She’s really lovely. I feel as if she used to be a housecat, was probably kicked out when money got tight,” Louis sighed, reaching out a hand to pet over her with Zayn, their hands knocking together comfortably. 

“Well, that’s good that she’s found you,” Zayn smiled at him, and Louis suddenly leaned over to his ear, despite the lack of others to overhear in the shop.

“I actually think she likes you better,” he whispered conspiratorially, quickly leaning away again to dramatically cough into his fist. 

“No way,” Zayn argued through a giggle, “You make everyone around you fall to their knees.” Louis quirked an eyebrow at him, biting back a smile. “Every animal, I didn’t mean like, Jesus, -”

“Zaynie, Zayn, it’s okay, I know what you meant,” Louis soothed patronizingly. Zayn wasn’t even annoyed by the nickname. What was he turning into. “You’re just desperate to get on your knees for me, aren’t you?”

Zayn scoffed. Or choked on his own spit. Maybe a bit of both. What the fuck was happening. 

Unsure of how to react, he instead covered Batman’s little ears. “Not in front of the children,” he whispered dramatically, and Louis absolutely _lost_ it, giggling so absurdly Zayn couldn’t help but join in, transfixed by how Louis seemed to be positively glowing, eyes bright like stars and skin radiating, a live current that Zayn felt compelled to touch, even if it meant he’d be electrocuted. 

“That is the funniest line that has come out of you. Ever,” Louis managed to squeak out between fits of giggles. Zayn honestly didn’t find it _that_ funny, but who was he to argue? Meanwhile, Batman seemed to get quite annoyed by their obnoxious laughter, and in what seemed like the blink of an eye she was out the door. Zayn never figured out how she managed to get out and in without a small flap or something on the impenetrable wood. 

“Spiderman!” Louis squealed, frantically glancing between the door and Zayn. He nodded his head at the door for Zayn to follow and quickly ran out to chase the cat. Zayn hesitated before leaving his spot behind the counter, hopeful that it would stay empty as he followed Louis out the door and into the bustling intersection at their corner of the street. 

He quickly located Louis’ black and white sweater against the crowd, looking like the static on a television that couldn’t find a signal, and hurried after him, trying to ignore the odd looks he got from the fact that he was still adorned in a moss green apron. Louis turned after a moment and caught his eye, giving an exaggerated pout, and slowly walked back towards Zayn. 

“Think she’s left me,” Louis sighed histrionically when he was close enough, and Zayn tried to hide his snicker. “Oh, you find this funny now, don’t you? Never should’ve given in when she begged to go see you, I knew it was a trick.” 

“You speak cat?” Zayn asked incredulously, playing along, and Louis nodded solemnly. 

“It’s alright though, Spidey wants to be free, I suppose.” Louis looked up high into the distance, as if expecting to see the cat swinging from building to building. Zayn shook his head, biting back another laugh. 

“Yeah, just let her go,” Zayn mumbled, not even bothering to correct her name this time. Batman really did suit her much better, though. 

Louis turned back to him, and Zayn didn’t think he was imagining the way his eyes travelled down the length of his body, not hidden behind a counter for once. His eyes quickly snapped back up, and crinkled up in a smile again. “Maybe she was a metaphor, or something,” he said offhandedly. Zayn laughed again. He didn’t seem to do anything else around this boy. 

“For what, exactly?” 

“Maybe she was, like, a representation of...of…” Louis stared in deep concentration at his feet. “I don’t know, man, life. Or something.” He looked back up to see Zayn shaking his head, probably looking like an idiot with the grin he could feel stretching his face. His cheeks were starting to hurt now. “Well, whatever, I’m still happy I came back.”

“Why?” Zayn asked before he could stop himself, although he was sure he could see what was coming next. Some cheesy declaration of attraction, he was certain that was what they were building up to. Maybe even a ki-

Before he could even finish his thought, there were thin lips on his own, heat suddenly flooding his own space, sly hands curling around his upper arms. He tried not to stumble back, grabbing at the front of Louis’ sweater for leverage. The scent and taste of Louis flooded his senses, eyes still open in surprise and taking in a blur of light skin and dark freckles. This was it, this was what it was like to touch a live current, this was electricity zinging through his veins, searing flesh in it’s wake. 

Before he could expand on his own metaphor, Louis was pulling away, still keeping himself pressed up against Zayn. He suddenly realized that they were still standing in broad daylight, a few paces from the little coffee shop, and wasn’t sure if he was more embarrassed or excited by the fact that people probably thought they were together. 

“Sorry, you just keep staring at me with those _eyes_ , and like, I thought that might be the best way to come out with it? Was that okay?” Louis was rambling, and Zayn continued to stare, eyes travelling over the jut of his cheekbones and the slight hollow to his speckled cheeks, the cute little cupid’s bow of his upper lip and lovely eyelashes that could possibly compete with his own. If he didn’t look absolutely lovely before, he was more than breathtaking up close. “Zaynie?” He looked almost worried now, little eyebrows coming together. Zayn was torn between pinching his cute little cheeks and kissing every inch of his skin. 

“Yeah, yes, you’re beautiful,” Zayn breathed out, and Louis giggled, washing warm air over Zayn’s lips. God, they were so close to eachother. He almost considered taking him home to show him the stupid poetry he’d pieced together when their lips connected again, his heart feeling like it was soaring. 

\-----

“Batman! Spiderman! Get your arses over here!” Louis called out. Zayn swatted him on the arm, scowling. 

“Don’t use that kind of language around them,” he whispered harshly, and Louis snickered. 

“They’re not gonna start using bad language or something, Jesus,” Louis scoffed, gesturing the two black cats over when they appeared in the doorway to their kitchen. 

It had been nearly a year since the entire predicament with the stray cat, and when it failed to return over the next couple weeks, Zayn figured it had simply feared being taken into domesticity again. Maybe it had liked living at the edge of life, without a comfortable home to return to and obtain food from. Little rebel. 

But Louis had been a bit put out about the whole thing, and for their one month anniversary he brought out a black cat he’d adopted from the shelter, telling him he could name it Spiderman. But through a fit of giggles, Louis had revealed his own black cat he’d gotten, saying it’s name was Batman. It had to be a sign that they were meant to be, or something. 

So now they had their own little apartment, with two black cats, although Zayn was sure they were only allowed to have one pet. Maybe he liked living at the edge of life too. 

“Cats are fucking adorable,” Louis sighed, watching Batman and Spiderman lick at their shitty smelling cat food. Zayn glared at him obnoxiously until Louis let out another insufferable sigh. “Cats are _really_ adorable, Zayn. Happy? All is well?” 

“Not as adorable as you,” Zayn grinned, leaning in to steal Louis’ lips for a moment. Louis pulled away, but Zayn didn’t miss the blush in his cheeks. 

“God, you stupid badass-looking literature freaks, always saying something disgustingly deep. Shouldn’t pick my boyfriends out at cliché coffee shops,” he sneered. 

“That wasn’t even that deep, you idiot,” Zayn pouted, but at the end of the day, he was happy he never turned down that job at the cliché coffee shop. Because no matter how many customers were unreasonably upset with him, he ended up meeting one of most radiant boys he’d ever had the honor of meeting, and nothing could deter him from that.

**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr](http://sleepinggalone.tumblr.com/)


End file.
